Squib
by Eilonwy
Summary: What would it be like to be a Squib, anyway?


Let's be blunt.I am an embarrassment to my whole family.There. Actually, I'm a disgrace.They're ashamed of me.They should be, too.After all, my family is one of the most noted wizarding families in existence.The number of times someone from our family has saved the world, or been Minister of Magic, or taught at Hogwarts, or something, -well, the number is too high to count to.Mum and Dad are quite fond of reminiscing about 'Great-Aunt Ermintrude, who discovered the Water of Life potion,' or 'Grandfather Melvin, who was Minister of Magic' or 'Third cousin Baruffio, who was a great wizard until the day he ended up with a buffalo on his chest,' or, -well, you get the picture.And my older brothers were both Head Boys at Hogwarts in their turn.They quite expected that I'd be Head Girl, myself.

So of course, they expected great things of me when I was born.I'm a good twelve years younger than my nearest brother.My parents were fifty-five when I was born.Mum said it was a bit of a surprise for her; she thought she was done with babies.

From all accounts, they were quite happy to have me.They had become rich by this time in their lives and filled my nursery with the best magical toys.That's when Mum noticed the first strange thing about me.Unlike other wizard children, I never blew things up accidentally when I got mad.I never turned my dolls into frogs, or actually managed to fly on my toy broom.Mum wondered at this but didn't worry too much.

No, she didn't start worrying until I was six and she realised that I'd never done _anything_ remotely magically.She told my father, and he started watching me. Six months later, when I'd still shown no sign of magic, they took me to London, to a wizened old warlock in a dark room.He hemmed and hawed, prodded me with his wand, fiddled with various silver instruments, poured over star charts, and finally straightened up with a grim look on his face.

I was a Squib.

The world just about ended them.Mum started crying, and Dad went all white.I knew what Squibs were, of course, and sure didn't want to be one.I thought if I could get away from that little man and his little silver instruments, I'd be fine, he'd be wrong, I'd be –normal.When we went home, I tried everything.I stole my brother's old wand from where he'd left it and tried every spell in the beginner's book.Of course they probably wouldn't have worked even if I had been a witch, but I didn't know that then.

Mum and Dad tried to put the best face on it.It was no shame to them; the best families produce Squibs sometimes.They tried to cheer me up, tried to tell me I'd be fine.They put me in the local school, with Muggles –other Muggles, that is.After all, I really was a Muggle, whatever name you put on it.

As I got older, I envied the real Muggles.At least they didn't know there _was _anything better, anything more, than their dull world. At least they weren't surround by normal people, waving wands and doing spells, flying and playing Quidditch…. It broke my heart sometimes.After a while, I just gave up and stopped doing anything.My parents were very worried and tried to comfort me.They just didn't understand.It hurt so much to see all the people who could do things I couldn't.I'd never have a normal life, never be like the rest of the wizarding world.

When I was twelve I ran away.That's all there is to it.I ran away because I was miserable and didn't want to be around my family.After two weeks, I crept home, even more miserable, and with pneumonia as well.Mum and Dad never scolded me for running away, and Mum sat up night after night at my bedside, taking care of me.

After that, I decided to apply myself to my schoolwork and became one of the best students in the class.My parents eventually paid for the best college I could get, and in a few more years I graduated with a degree in physics.I'd purposefully picked something that I thought would take me as far from the wizarding world as possible.Then I cut off all my ties and went to Canada to live and work.There were wizards in Canada, too, of course, but I wouldn't know where they were, or how to contact them.That suited me fine.

I was content in Canada.Not happy, but content.I made myself forget about wizards and magic.I pretended that I was normal, that I liked what I was doing.But I didn't have friends.People I worked with would extend a hand, but I'd slap it away, preferring to sit alone, night after night, staring out the window, or at the television, or at a book, never actually letting myself think about how miserable I was.

I even fooled myself, during the day.But at night, in my dreams, I still saw myself on a broom, in robes, waving a wand.I still dreamt of flying.And at night, I'd wake to find my pillow wet with tears.

And then, one day, I met someone.He was from England, visiting relatives in Canada. For some inexplicable reason, I'd accepted an invitation to a party from one of my co-workers.So there I was, standing in a crowded room, nursing a cocktail and wondering why I'd come, when someone crashed into me from behind.He apologised very nicely and got me another drink, and he stayed to talk.He was intelligent and –rather handsome, I admitted to myself, as we talked.

I found myself volunteering to show him around while he was in town, and he accepted.I didn't really know why I did that, any more than why I'd come to the party.Was I lonely?Perhaps.

I don't want to go into what happened next.Let's just get to the point.I fell in love.Really and truly in love, the way that everyone always thinks love is supposed to be.More incredible, he fell in love with me, too.Two months after we met –he stayed longer than he'd planned in Canada –because of me!I couldn't believe it.Anyway, two months later, we married. 

We moved back to England shortly afterwards, a sign of how much I was in love.When I left, I'd sworn that it would take a world-class disaster to bring me back.But I had told my husband that I had no family, that I was an orphan.We lived far away from where my parents dwelt, and I stayed away from where wizards were.Why should I be around wizards, anyway? I wasn't one.

Then, crowning my happiness, I had daughters, beautiful little girls who made my life ten thousand times better.I loved them so much….

Between my daughters and my husband, I almost forgot the wizarding world.When owls hooted at night, I was able to stifle the pain in my heart that they'd never bring me a letter.When I saw shapes flying toward sunset, I could convince myself that they were birds, not witches. 

I never told my daughters fairy tales.Partly it was because I knew they were all so wrong, but mostly it was because I still didn't like to think about magic.So they only heard me mocking Cinderella and Snow White and fairy godmothers, and of course they imitated me, becoming practical.Most of the time, for how can little girls not dream of fantastic things?I knew what the distant looks that my daughters wore meant.My younger daughter had the expression much more than her sister, who quickly grew out of the magic of childhood into dull reality.

Then, one summer day, my older daughter got the mail.When she came back to the kitchen she flipped her sister a letter.Five minutes later, I was reading terrible, wonderful words.

My younger daughter was a witch.She was invited to learn magic at Hogwarts School.This was wonderful.This was terrible.She'd do everything I'd always dreamt of.I'd have to see wizards again.I might find out what my family was doing.She couldn't go, I wouldn't let her.She had to go, how could I deny her?Then I looked at her.She had an expression of rapture on her face.My older daughter wore a scornful look, clearly not believing the letter.But my younger daughter knew the truth and wanted to go.How could I not let her have what I wanted?Though it tore at my heart, I took her to Diagon Alley, bought her a wand and a cauldron and spellbooks.I shed bitter tears when her train pulled away from the station, carrying her off to a life that I'd been born to but never lived.

No, I didn't tell her that I was a Squib.I didn't want to admit it; it still hurt me too much.She thought she was just another Muggle-born.Which she was.I delicately made inquiries about my family, and found to my sorrow that my parents were dead.My oldest brother had died with them.Rumors spoke of an attack by an evil Dark wizard.For the first time, I realised that life as a Muggle had some good points.My other brother, though, was married and had several children of his own.His youngest was several years older than my daughter, but would be at Hogwarts with her.I wondered if they looked anything alike.

The years went by again.My husband died, and I wanted to die too.My older daughter married.My younger daughter grew more beautiful.From what she told me, she was well liked and happy at Hogwarts.I was glad to hear that.

Then, when my daughter was near to graduating, doctors told me that I didn't have long to live. I didn't really know what to think.Over the next few months, I did a lot of thinking about my life.

I'd been happy, most of the time.The only regret that I had, really, was that I'd never been able to fly alone.All my life I'd wanted that, but…

My daughter came home, covered in honors. She had been Head Girl, and from what she said, she seemed likely to marry soon.She stayed with me while I grew weaker and weaker.I thought again about telling her the truth, but I couldn't.

And then, as the world grew fainter and darker, I wanted to say something to her.But no I could no longer speak.Everything faded.The last thing I saw was my daughter; her beautiful red hair shining, her green eyes full of tears.

"Lily," I tried to say, but everything went dark.

And then, at last, I flew.

**Do you understand that?It was Lily's mum, if you didn't. That story was a lot harder than you might think.It was hard to write, especially since I don't know any names.Which is part of the reason why none of the characters have names. This was kind of an odd story, and it's harder than you might think, writing a story where the narrator dies.I don't think I'll do that again!**

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**12 April, 2000**

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**~Eilonwy**


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